


Broken Wings and Other Beautiful Things

by orphan_account



Category: Gone Series - Michael Grant
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drake always destroys what he loves and Sam needs to be destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings and Other Beautiful Things

It was never like Sam wanted this. This fucked up mix of nightmares and wet dreams.

He wanted the first person he lost his virginity to be special, call him traditional, call him a girl. 

He didn’t want that person to be Drake Merwin.

The tentacle gripped his chin harshly, forcing it up, meaning that if Sam opened his eyes, they would meet the ones above him, and Sam really didn’t want to see the expression on Drake’s face right now. Triumph probably. He liked nothing better than breaking Sam down to this point, this mess of sweat, pain and arousal. 

He opened his eyes all the same.

Drake grinned, all teeth and little love. He pushed deeper into Sam, taking complete delight in the fresh flush of red across the smaller boy’s body, the moan, the way Sam’s eyes glazed over.

“Ah, Ah-“

“That’s right Sammy.” Drake cooed, and Sam felt like spiders had crawled up his spine, and he could feel that Drake too was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, though he had none of Sam’s warmth. “Make some noise for me, come on-” Each word was punctuated with a sharp, almost painful thrust, making Sam’s back arch, Drake’s hips slamming against Sam’s. He apparently wasn’t satisfied with pained moans and broken whimpers. He yanked Sam up by the wrist, moving himself to the edge of the bed, so if Sam didn’t want to fall, he had to stay close to the boy with the whip hand. Even the fucking position they moved in was a power play. Of course. What else had he expected? It almost looked tender, Sam’s head resting on Drake’s shoulder, nestled in his lap, an tentacle wrapped tightly around his waist to keep him steady. A hand wrapped around Sam’s cock (eliciting a filthy gasp), jerking at an almost lazy pace.

“See, the difference between you and me is Sammy-” His words were hissed into Sam’s ear, though Sam was too far gone to hear much, his cries muffled by Drake’s shoulder, his nails raking neat patterns in Drake’s back, that move actually bringing a moan from the demon himself. “You fall into sin accidentally. I enjoy it.” He looks at the scars covering the surfer’s back, criss-crossed and messy. Beautiful. So beautiful. Drake hated beautiful things, ever since he first burnt wings off a butterfly. He liked destroying the things he loved. 

Sam came with a noise that was almost a scream, and almost a sob, and Drake came some after, biting and snarling like an animal.

Sam doesn’t leave afterwards, he stays in Drake’s arm, letting himself be hushed and held, and he feels like something is rotting in him. Drake enjoys watching the cracks.


End file.
